


Stay the Course

by babs



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Gen, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Team as Family, hurt/comfort bingo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-06
Updated: 2019-07-06
Packaged: 2020-06-22 05:04:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19660396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babs/pseuds/babs
Summary: Written for Hurt/Comfort Bingo Prompt: Strapped to a Moving Vehicle





	Stay the Course

Stay the Course

The sky was cloudy and Cam supposed he should be grateful for that, unable to close his eyes fully, hell unable to move. He still wasn't sure what had hit him, stung him, whatever, only that he couldn't move a muscle except for breathing. He was breathing, he thought, although he couldn't hear it. He could hear the sounds of birds, and the sound of Jackson's increasingly frantic calls for him on the radio.

You're gonna draw them back to me, Jackson, he wanted to say but he couldn't bring his hand up. Nope, all he could do was lie and wait.

"I've found him." That was Carter and she was at his side and calling for the others, giving co-ordinates.

He lost track of time although he was aware of Carter's slender fingers at his throat, brushing over his mouth, touching him in various places. He heard the catch in her breath and the crash of undergrowth.

"Sam, what--" Jackson's voice cut off and there was a squishing noise as Jackson fell to what Cam figured was his knees.

"Sam?" Jackson sounded distressed and Cam wasn't sure why.

"There's no pulse, no breathing," Carter said very quietly. 

"We can do CPR," Jackson said and Cam felt someone tugging at his clothing.

"DanielJackson," Teal'c said. "ColonelMitchell's body is cold. He is stiff."

"It's been three hours since he went missing," Carter continued. 

Three hours? How had it been that long? And wait—what? No CPR? No pulse? Not breathing? He was dead?

Well that was obviously wrong because first of all, he could hear them all. 

"How can he be dead?" Vala asked. "There's no injury."

"That we are able to see," Teal'c corrected her gently. "We will need to return ColonelMitchell to the SGC."

"There was that boat," Jackson said. "If we use that, we can—well you know."

He was wrapped in something and someone, he thought it was Carter or maybe it was Jackson tried to close his eyes the rest of the way. They did not, thank the good Lord above, cover his face.

I'm not dead guys, he wanted to tell them. Please, hear me, I'm not dead.

He felt his body lifted, strapped into something and then they were moving, moving along a rocky path. At least he thought it was rocky because he felt every jolt as one or the other ends of the stretcher slipped. His head slid sideways and he wanted to straighten it but he couldn't. 

I'm not dead. Please guys. What if, oh God in Heaven, what if they got back to the SGC and he was taken to the morgue and they did an autopsy? Wait, would they discover he was alive then? He was alive wasn't he? Or was he in some sort of in-between place—dead but not quite able to leave his body for some reason? He didn't think that happened—Cam had never believed in ghosts. And he thought he'd lived a decent life—at least he'd tried his best. Surely he was meant to go to the good place not the bad one.

It smelled like gasoline although he wasn't sure if on this world gas was the fuel of choice. He'd have to ask Carter about that—was petroleum found on worlds other than Earth? He didn't know—he'd never thought about it before.

He heard Daniel grunt and his world tilted sickeningly—the little of it he could still see from eyes only partly open.

The journey to—what had Jackson said—oh yeah, a boat had been completed in silence. 

"Vala, hand me that rope," Jackson said and something was thrown over his stretcher. It moved again and then there was a thrumming sound and the smell of gasoline was stronger. 

"Daniel," Vala said from somewhere near Cam's feet—at least he thought it was his feet. 

"Yes." Jackson's tone was distracted.

"What do you think happened?"

Jackskon let out an exasperated breath of air. "I don't know. Maybe he had some sort of cardiac event or maybe he breathed in something—I don't know."

"The medical staff at the SGC will be able to determine the cause of death," Teal'c said.

There was a swoop and Cam's head slid again. He thought it might be hanging over the side of the stretcher.

He felt Jackson's hands on either side of his head and his head was lifted and placed back in the center of the stretcher. Jackson moved his hand to Cam's shoulder, kept it there.

"I'm sorry," Jackson said softly. 

Why? Why would Jackson be sorry? It's not like he had anything to do with Cam's death? Wait, what was he thinking? He wasn't dead. He was just—not all there.  
"You okay, Daniel?" Carter called. "I know it's got to be hard balancing up there."

"We're okay," Jackson said. "I've got him." Jackson's grip on his shoulder grew tighter as the sky spun overhead. His other arm came over Cam's chest anchoring him to the stretcher as the boat—where the hell had his team found a boat?--picked up speed.

Of course it was Carter driving/steering. That explained the speed.What did you do to a boat anyway? He'd have to ask someone. His experience with boats had been getting in the rowboat on Tommy Greer's pond and upsetting it and being pulled from the water by Tommy's dad. And then getting grounded for what he thought at the time was months but in reality had probably only been a week.

He could hear the others talking but it was Jackson whose arms were holding him in place and Jackson who was talking to him.

General O'Neill had warned him when he first took SG-1 over—had warned him that one Doctor Daniel Jackson was a talker. Cam had smiled and said his thanks but thought nothing more of it. Until he'd spent mission after mission and briefing after briefing with the man. Because yeah, Daniel Jackson did talk. He talked when he was earnestly trying to get people to believe him, when he was making sure everyone understood the importance of whatever culture they were going to meet or might run into. He talked when he wanted Cam and Vala and Teal'c and Carter to love whatever he had learned as much as he did and he talked to himself in his sleep—in other languages Cam didn't understand but Teal'c sometimes did and would shake his head to remind Cam that asking Daniel about his dreams was not a good idea. He talked or more like baited the bad guys with snark and a biting wit that Cam had experienced a few times himself. 

And he talked when he was upset—a different kind of talking. More like babbling, talking about anything and everything under the sun or suns or moons. It was that talking Cam was hearing now. For some reasons, Jackson was talking to him. To a guy he thought was dead. Jackson told him about General O'Neill's latest house repair projects and what Jackson thought about them—not at all pleased, a review of the newest Indian restaurant in the Springs—passable, excellent naan but the tikka masala needed work, and his frustration with Vala interrupting him while he was trying to complete a report.

"I've been working on the thing for over a week," Jackson said. "And she doesn't seem to understand the words, I'm busy, I can't talk now." He sighed and Cam felt the vibration travel into his own body through the arm Jackson had across his chest.

"I mean, she knows Jack and I are a thing, right? So why does she keep after me?" Jackson said. "I think she's just messing with me now. Finds it amusing or something. I keep trying to figure out if she really wants a man or just enjoys the chase."

Jackson moved his right hand from Cam's shoulder to his forehead and Cam felt him rest his hand there. "I'm sorry we didn't get to you sooner."  
He brushed Cam's hair back—a movement Cam was pretty sure was an unconscious one. "We will find out what happened to you. I promise. And even though it's too late, we'll make sure that it doesn't happen to anyone else." 

Oh yeah, there was the talking Jackson did just because deep down, beneath the snark and the sometimes arrogance because he knew he was right, Daniel Jackson was a nice guy. One of the good ones that Cam thought the world needed more of. 

"Your heart is light, Cam," Jackson said then, his voice soft as he bent closer. "Lighter than a feather."

What? What was Jackson talking about? Then he remembered one of the lectures Jackson had given to some new recruits to the SGC—and him talking about Ancient Egyptian beliefs about the afterlife. He realized just what Jackson was saying. He wasn't afraid any longer—he'd moved beyond that. If he was dead, although he didn't think he was, if he was, then he knew that at least his death meant something to these four people. 

Jackson was silent then, and there was only the sound of the chugging motor and water lapping against the sides of the boat. Every so often, Jackson would shoo bugs away from his face—a small kindness that Cam appreciated even if he couldn't communicate it. 

His mind slowed—he didn't really want to be dead but his grandma would be waiting and other people he'd loved and lost. That wouldn't be so bad even though there was so much more he wanted to do, so much more to see.

His right big toe itched. Okay, he couldn't be dead because he was pretty sure dead people didn't feel itchiness. He tried to scrunch his toe up inside his boot for some relief, turn his foot to the side to rub it.

"Cam?" Jackson slid his hand down Cam's leg towards his foot. He tugged at Cam's BDU's. "Cam? Can you hear me?"

Oh I can, Jackson. I can hear you just fine. Can't answer though.

"Cam if you can hear me, move your foot."

That was do-able.

"Sam! Teal'c! Vala!" Jackson brought his hand back up to Cam's face, patted it. "I don't know how, I don't know—he's alive. Cam is alive."

There was a lot of chatter and Cam couldn't quite take it all in, but the boat seemed to pick up even more speed and Jackson leaned close to his ear.

"We're taking you home. You're going to be okay. You hear me? Hang on, Cam." Jackson kept up a steady stream of encouragement.

The boat bumped to a halt and Teal'c and Vala were sliding the stretcher off while Jackson jumped down into the water before taking an end from Vala. 

He was glad Jackson was at his head—still keeping up that reassurance that everything was going to be okay. Because, yes, he was alive—and they knew it, but what if this was it? What if the only thing he'd ever be able to do again was move his right foot? What if?

"Don't be scared," Jackson told him. "We'll figure it out."

Cam heard the whoosh of the Gate and then he was being passed off into other hands and the care of doctors and he finally let go.

* * * *

"Knock, knock."

Cam rolled his head to the side to see Jackson standing at the door. It was what Cam had dubbed the awkward look—for all Jackson's confidence and self-assurededness, there were times the man still looked as if he was back in high school.

"How you doing?" Jackson asked. He came to stand by Cam's bed with his hands stuck in his pockets, slouching in a way that showed despite all his years at the SGC, Daniel Jackson was not and never would be a soldier.

Cam held up his left hand and waggled his fingers. 

"Impressive," Jackson said. "No--" He moved his index finger in a circle near his mouth.

Cam shook his head and looked at the keyboard they'd set up for him. Not yet, he typed and Jackson laughed when the voice came out with a posh English accent.

Vala's idea, Cam typed again.

"Any idea when you'll get out?" Jackson looked at Cam instead of the keyboard which meant more than he knew.

Maybe another week. More movement coming back each day. Just neck up to go, they say. Therapy though.

"Hmm..." Jackson said. "Oh by the way, they found what caused the—well you know--"

"Fraiser said it was some sort of plant? Neuro toxin?" The words had spun in Cam's head.

"Yep," Jackson said. "Although we're not quite sure how you came in contact with it."

Cam shuddered at the thought that his whole team could have fallen victim to the same thing.

Just my luck, I guess, he typed. How's your report going?

"My report?" Jackson looked confused. "I finished my mission report days ago."

No, the other one, Cam typed. The one Vala wouldn't let you finish.

Jackson blushed. "You heard that? You heard everything didn't you?"

Yeah. 

"Well that's kind of embarrassing," Jackson said. He shifted his weight in a way Cam had come to recognize as his "I'm so uncomfortable we're talking about this" stance. 

Why? You don't know how much it meant.

Jackson waved a hand. "You'd have done the same for me."

That was just it, Cam thought, he didn't know if he would have. He liked to think he was that kind of man, that kind of leader.

"I'd better go," Jackson said. "You need your rest."

I haven't been able to move for days, Jackson, I'm getting plenty of rest.

"Janet might disagree," Jackson said and looked over his shoulder. "Anyway, I'll stop back a bit later. Oh and yeah, I did finally get that report finished." He stepped back, gave a little wave. "Take care."

I will, Cam typed. And Daniel?

Jackson turned back to him at the door—surprise at Cam's using his given name. 

Thank you. For everything.

Jackson nodded and disappeared from view. Cam closed his eyes, wiggled fingers and toes and let himself drift to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first time I've attempted writing a fic from Cameron's point of view. I want to include him in some more fics because I do think he does provide an interesting viewpoint.
> 
> Oh and just in case you're thinking--but Janet isn't around past Heroes--well, I've decided that Devra's fic Every New Beginning (https://archiveofourown.org/works/12720309) makes a very good point of just why and how Janet could be there. And so I've adopted that theory for my own.


End file.
